


What’s for Dinner?

by beccastanz



Series: A Family Affair [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bratty Rey, Cock Warming, Consensual Somnophilia, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Ben Solo, Dominant Kylo Ren, Edging, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/M, Incest, Multi, No Pregnancy, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Ben Solo, Praise Kink, Professor Han Solo, Pseudo-Incest, Restraints, Rey has graduated by this point and Ben was never her professor, Safe to Read if Triggered by Pregnancy, Submissive Rey (Star Wars), Teacher-Student Relationship, Voyeurism, and not really a relationship, dad kink???, future Professor ben solo, han watches ben fuck rey, in the past, last 3 tags are very brief, no beta we die like men, not sure if it counts as incest, rey has an iud, so do with that what you will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccastanz/pseuds/beccastanz
Summary: “We’re so proud of you,” he whispers against her, vibrations of his voice just right.And she comes on his tongue.-Sequel toWho’s Your Daddy?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Han Solo
Series: A Family Affair [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945768
Comments: 150
Kudos: 446





	What’s for Dinner?

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all: OMG imagine the family dinners  
> Me: okay
> 
> (You don’t HAVE to read Part 1 to read this one, but like...why not? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)
> 
> Please, PLEASE mind those tags! I think I caught everything but please let me know if I missed something.
> 
> No beta no shame let’s DO THIS

Rey is on edge, so _fucking_ close thanks to Ben’s ever so skilled tongue and fingers between her legs. She’s panting in his bed—no, _their_ bed as she grasps the sheets, ready to beg if he doesn’t just _get on with it._

Then he moves his lips away, slowing the thrust of his three fingers inside of her, and she cries in anguish.

“Daddy, _please,_ I was almost—”

“I know sweetheart,” he croons, upturned corners of his lips coated in her wetness. “I just remembered, my father wants to have us over for dinner tomorrow.”

She pulls against the wrist restraints with a huff of frustration.

“You remembered that _noOW—”_ she’s cut off by the press of his thumb at her clit as he curls his fingers inside of her, not doing enough to push her over.

“Sorry, just popped into my mind,” he apologizes—insincerely, if she has anything to say about it. “So, is that a yes? We wanna celebrate your new job. My little engineer,” he teases, a seductive lilt to his tone, before finally wrapping his lips back around her clit. She thrusts against his fingers, his mouth, back on edge right away as he licks and fucks.

“We’re so proud of you,” he whispers against her, vibrations of his voice just right.

And she comes on his tongue.

————

They arrive the following night, bottle of wine in hand. The drive passes quickly, conversation flowing easily between her and Ben. It’s been a while since they’ve caught up with Profe-Han. It’s been a while since they caught up with _Han,_ and they’ve both missed him. 

It was surprisingly unawkward once she and Ben started dating, the “incident” undiscussed past the occasional knowing look or slight joke. It’s nice, Rey has found, to have something like a family. The decision to move in with Ben after graduation had been easy, and only a month in was still so new and exhilarating, to wake up next to him each day, stirring with the feeling of his hands or his mouth more often than not. He might be older, but with his age comes a knowledge of seemingly infinite ways to get her off besides just fucking.

Though the fucking is nice too. 

He fills her in a way that’s ruined her for all other men. Well—most other men. 

Sometimes a crush just...lingers. But it’s almost transformed, a deeper affection more than arousal, a fondness for the man who brought her _her_ man. Ben’s made it clear; her holes belong to him alone.

Ben rings the doorbell as she smooths down her dress, green with little flowers, a comfortably loose skirt, perfect for the heat of summer, and a cardigan for the evening chill. It feels different, somehow, to be visiting as the new cohabitant of Ben’s apartment. More serious. A part of her, still somewhat repressed, seeks approval.

As if sensing her nerves, Ben places a firm hand on her shoulder, his touch grounding as Han opens the door to greet them.

“Ben, Rey, good to see you kids. Come on in, I’ll get you a drink.”

Rey grins at the teasing tone behind “kids,” knowing it gets on Ben’s last nerve, proven when he passes the bottle of red to his father in lieu of a handshake, shutting the door behind them.

“Ah, Ben, you’ll never get me to buy into that fancy shit. I’m having a beer, but I’ll open it for you guys. Celebratory and all.”

She smiles, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Professor—”

“Han, dear. It’s Han. Although, if you and Ben get married, you’ll have to start calling me Dad!” He barbs with a wink.

A blush rises to her cheeks, surprising, yet familiar. She giggles before she can stop herself, and Ben’s arm around her seems to tighten. When she chances a look, his mouth is tight, eyes a bit mirthful. Han doesn’t seem to notice as he putters to the kitchen for a bottle opener.

“You okay, Ben?”

He nods, but she remains unconvinced.

When Han returns with a beer and two wine glasses, she accepts the proffered salvation from whatever strange energy has started to build.

“You look very nice, Rey. Is that a new dress?”

She takes a gulp before responding.

“Um, thank you,” and she can’t hide the blush now. She sinks further into Ben’s side in an attempt to cover it anyway. “Yes, Ben got it for me, as a gift for the new job.”

“Well, my son has always had excellent taste.”

Rey is suddenly warm all over, despite the chill in the air.

Ben takes his own gulp before an abrupt change in subject.

“So, dinner?”

“Ah, of course, right this way. Had to pull out all the stops for our girl.”

There’s no mistaking the look on Ben’s face now. It’s menace, dark and hot, and something pulses in Rey’s core as she realizes that she likes it. 

A silent conversation passes between father and son, and Han turns away to lead them to the dining room.

“Let me grab the appetizers, you guys sit down.”

“Appetizers?” Rey exclaims, always excited at the prospect of food followed by additional food.

“Of course!” Han yells from the kitchen, and she grins, despite the heat radiating from Ben in waves. She turns to him in an attempt to soothe as Han prepares the first course.

“Ben—”

“No, Rey. Who am I?”

She can’t look at him anymore, shaken by his boldness, and she feels a bit of wetness collect in her thong.

She refuses to admit that there was already a damp spot waiting.

“Daddy,” she whispers, “calm down. I’m all yours. Promise.”

He lets out a huff, seemingly appeased for now, so she turns just in time to see Han reentering the dining room.

“Homemade bruschetta,” he explains with a wave to the bowl full of chopped tomatoes and spices and oil, and toasted slices of bread.

When she digs in, she can’t hold back the moan.

“Oh my god,” she mumbles through the bite, impossible to wait until she’s swallowed to exclaim with delight. “This is so good!”

Ben nods through his own mouthful, and she’s incredulous that they’ve managed to keep such a secret from her for so long.

“Was no one going to tell me that Pro-that Han’s a master chef?”

“Ah, well, one thing being a bachelor taught me is how to fend for myself. And how much a woman enjoys a home cooked meal made right,” he explains, another wink. Apparently neither father nor son have an instinct for self preservation.

She avoids looking at Ben, certain she’ll find nothing comforting.

Instead, she keeps eating, happy little noises escaping with each bite. She can’t help it—it’s _that good._

She lets the two of them catch up, Han complaining about his imminent final year of teaching, Ben about the logistics of his takeover. She is more than happy to consume the spoils of her victory without talking about it. She’s always been shy to brag, and so she allows the soothing voices and delicious flavors to wash over her, thankful for the loose skirt of her dress when she realizes there’s likely so much more to eat.

When the bowl is empty, she resists the urge to run her finger through the collected liquid at the bottom of the bowl. Just barely.

“Rey, I’m sorry, we’ve just been yapping away,” Han apologizes when he sees the empty bowl. “You’ll have to tell us all about the new job over the main course. You know we’re very proud of all you’ve accomplished”

“Um, thank you, I guess I’ll share,” she acquiesces bashfully, looking to Ben for reassurance. She finds it, combined with a heat she’s only ever seen when she’s naked and writhing under him. She swallows heavily, the remnants of tomato and basil and smooth olive oil passing down her throat, followed by a sense of dread.

“Well, I’m gonna go get dinner, should just be a few minutes to get it all together. I’ll be right back.”

And then it’s just her and Ben.

“What are you doing, sweetheart, hm?”

His voice sends a shiver down her spine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, B—” and when she turns to see the look in his eyes again, she knows to correct herself before he even asks. “—Daddy.”

“Oh really? You’re not blushing, and smiling, and moaning for my father?”

Her heart stops. He couldn’t really mean—

“I think you need to be reminded who your _real_ Daddy is, hm?”

And despite everything, she _wants._

“How?”

He’s pleased at that, at least. Then, he reaches for his zipper, and her heart stops.

“You’re gonna sit on Daddy’s cock like a good girl and keep it warm. I think that’ll do.”

Her eyes dart furtively toward the kitchen.

“But what if—”

“Better hurry up and get it in, sweetheart, unless you want _Dad_ to see.” He says with a heat almost like anger, and yet it’s adjacent, slightly deeper, twisted, as if he wouldn’t mind either way.

As she watches his cock spring free, Rey realizes she wouldn’t mind either, remembering the thrill of the classroom, of her Professor walking in while she was in the throes of passion.

But tonight calls for something different, and with a prayer for how wet she’s already gotten, she hurries into Ben’s lap, sinking down on his hardness with a barely stifled moan.

She feels him arrange her dress to cover them, and before she can even get used to the stretch, Han is entering with several trays and a naive smile.

Rey tries to smile too, then she feels Ben shift in a way that makes her realize she hadn’t quite sunk down all the way. The final inch pushes in, and her eyes widen in shock before she can control it.

“Are you okay, Rey?”

He seems unphased by their change in position, even when Ben’s arm comes to wrap around her front, pulling her even more flush against him, forcing a trickle of wetness out to soak his trousers.

“Of course! It just looks so great!”

She hopes it’s convincing.

As Han doles out the main course, she can’t hear his explanations of the dishes, too focused on the feeling of Ben stretching her pussy. There’d been no usual prep, no fingers or tongue, and the stretch is catching up to her. She’s always tight around him, but in this position, with nothing but her own arousal of the evening to guide his way, she feels her walls pressing like a vice around his cock. 

A bead of sweat drips from her neck down her back, and she aches at the unrelenting stretch. It’s just... _there_ in a way that she’s never experienced. It’s always thrusting, stimulating, _fucking,_ but there’s almost no words for the feeling now, stuffed to the brim with no end in sight. She can literally feel him expand to full hardness when she tries to cover her discomfort— _was it really discomfort, or pure bliss?—_ with a cough. The expelling of air from her lungs seems to make her tighten impossibly further around him, and then it’s Ben’s turn to stifle a moan.

Good. At least it wasn’t _entirely_ a one-sided battle.

She picks up her fork with a shaky hand, but Ben grabs her wrist with the hand not currently splayed across her stomach.

“I’ll feed you, sweetheart,” he half whispers in her ear, still loud enough for Han to hear. “No need to lift a finger when we’re celebrating all you’ve accomplished.”

“I see I at least succeeded in teaching you how to treat a lady, son,” Han chides from across the table. After a few silent minutes of eating and trying not to moan at both the food and Ben’s cock inside of her, Han resumes the conversation. “So Rey, tell us about the job.”

_Cock. There’s a cock inside me. Big thick cock stretching oh fuck I need to come this is fucking torture—_

“Well, it should be exciting!” 

_So big so hard how is he doing this oh my god I just need a thrust just one or two thrusts fucking hell oh—_

“I’m going to be designing more efficient parts for spacecraft.”

_What if he doesn’t make me come oh god I need it so bad just bend me over and rub my clit that’s all it’d take please—_

“And they’re going to help pay my student loans.”

Her voice only cracks twice.

She tries to cover it with a sip of wine, hand shaky as she holds it to her lips.

“Rey, dear,” Han starts, “you look a little flushed. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“‘M fine. Just a little warm,” she says with a smile.

“Let me help with that, sweetheart,” she hears in her ear.

Ben’s hands come up to her neck, tracing the edge of her cardigan in a small motion that makes her shudder. When he peels it from her arms, it’s both torment and relief, the cool air of the room providing the smallest reprieve, but baring her increasingly sensitive skin to their eyes, and Ben’s hands.

He rubs one finger up her arm in what must look like a soothing gesture, but is actually fucking _sinister._

“Well, that sounds lovely, Rey. And you got it all on your own. We know you’ll do well.”

She wonders if Ben can feel her grow wetter on his cock at his father’s praise.

If the tightened grip on her waist is any indication, he can.

They continue their chatter through the main course, Rey passing off her unsuppressed moans as praise for the food, Ben shifting his hips every once in a while just to fuck with her, and Han seemingly none the wiser to the game unfolding in front of him.

Blessedly, somehow, they clear their plates, and Han rises once more.

“I planned something special for dessert! Soufflés!”

Despite her discomfort, Rey’s ears perk up. If she has to eat her soufflé while stuffed full of cock, so be it.

“It should have about 5 minutes left,” he explains with a glance to his watch. “I have to keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t burn. You kids ok to entertain yourselves while I’m gone?”

Rey cranes her neck to turn toward Ben for the first time since he slipped his cock inside of her, and she could just about smack him for how unaffected he looks.

“We’ll be fine, Dad,” he says, still looking in her eyes.

“Okay then,” Han says, starting to sound just a bit suspicious, but turning toward the kitchen anyway, for the sake of the soufflés.

As soon as he’s out of the doorway, Ben’s hands are a vice on her hips, and his lips trace the shell of her ear.

“Who do you belong to, sweetheart?”

“You Daddy, oh god, just you, ‘m sorry, please,” she whispers, choked up, reeling from the infinite stretch, “please let me come, I’ve been so good—”

“ _So good_ ?” Ben bites. “I think that’s a _stretch_ ,” and of course he thrusts up into her at that moment, of fucking _course_ he does, and the stretch is even better when he moves his hips, fucking _finally._

She whimpers, and he removes a hand from her hip to cover her mouth.

“Shhh, sweetheart, you’re all mine. Now, do you think you can come before he gets back?”

She nods furiously before reaching a hand down to touch her clit.

He doesn’t let her.

“No touching. You’ll come on my cock before he gets back, or not at all.”

He’s being cruel, and he knows it. It’s rare she can orgasm without external stimulation, but it’s such exquisite torture as she writhes in his lap that she almost can’t be mad. She gets ever so close, close enough that she can nearly taste her own release on her tongue—and then she can hear Han’s footsteps coming down the hall.

At least she’ll get to taste chocolate.

“They’re ready!” He exclaims, setting the individual ramekins down on the table with hardly a glance, focused on being gentle enough to not let them collapse.

He doesn’t see that Rey is on the verge of collapse, too, dripping down his son’s cock at the dining room table.

“Looks great,” she squeaks, and Han finally looks up as he hands them each a spoon.

She breaks eye contact immediately and digs into the soufflé, pressing a warm bite past her lips as a single tear tracks down her cheek.

She can’t look at either of them, now, and just tries to focus on her dessert.

Several moments pass. She assumes they each dig into their own ramekins, and she tries to just keep going, she really tries, but then Ben moans around his own bite and moves his hips just a bit and she drops her spoon and she’s out of excuses and she’s dripping and sweating and she doesn’t know how she’s going to explain it away.

And then, Han speaks.

“God damn it, son, just make her come already. You’re torturing the poor girl.”

She chokes. Ben freezes. And then, finally—

“Fine.”

Ben grabs her hips again and stands them up, bending her over the table as he finally starts to thrust.

Han is closer this time. 

She still can’t quite look into his eyes as Ben rams into her, moans and whines finally escaping her freely. She’s never been kept on edge for so long, and she needs to come. She needs to come _now._

“Daddy, please,” she begs, another tear tracking down her cheek as she abandons any vestiges of shame, “can I touch myself? Wanna come on your cock, come on Daddy’s cock, all yours—”

“Yes sweetheart, since you asked so nicely. Go on,” Ben whispers from behind her, annoyingly calm and collected as always, even after an evening stuffed deep in her pussy.

Rey keeps one arm braced on the table, inches from Han’s half-eaten soufflé, and brings the other under her dress to press her fingers down in tight circles over her clit. It’s nearly instantaneous, her orgasm, earth shattering in its intensity as she comes and comes and _comes,_ and Ben fucks her through it, past the point at which she has to move her hand away, shoving her elbow back into the table as he finds his own release, spilling deep inside of her with her favorite type of warmth.

When she finally looks up, Han’s eyes could bore a hole through her skull with the intensity of his stare. She sees his gaze flicker to her hand, the one covered in her own wetness, before darting to a point behind her.

He’s looking at his son, another silent conversation. 

And somehow, she knows.

Ben bends back over, his softening cock still inside of her as he whispers, “Go on, sweetheart, just a little taste of what he’ll never get.”

She holds out her hand in an offering, her own recipe to share.

When Han wraps his lips around her fingers, he looks at her with an awe she’s seen reflected in his son’s eyes innumerable times. It’s her favorite look.

She feels bold, dangerous, and still a little resentful of Ben’s behavior.

So she doesn’t feel bad when she silently mouths those two words.

“Thanks, Dad.”

His eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, and he releases her fingers with a wet pop at the same moment that Ben pulls out of her pussy.

Satisfied that the moment has gone on long enough, Ben hauls her back into his lap once his cock is settled back into his trousers.

“Be a good girl and hold in Daddy’s cum, sweetheart. Don’t wanna ruin the chair.”

She almost snorts in her post orgasm haze. There was precious little left to ruin.

A silent agreement passes between the three of them, and they move to finish their dessert before it gets cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/beccastanz) for additional nonsense. I’m going to try to get back to my WIPs...but I can’t stop you from leaving ideas in the comments...


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